Ondelas' Awakening
by Annilalate
Summary: The Dragonborn is a legend, foretold to save the world. But what if he is as much a threat as the Worldeater himself? How will the Dragonborn save a world he is busy trying to destroy himself?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Skyrim, The Elder Scrolls, and most characters are the property of Bethesda Softworks. Some plot points and the OCs are mine, that's it. May or may not feature cameos from friends' save files as random NPC type characters.

_A/N: There will be some things that will happen in this fic that would not or COULD not occur in vanilla Skyrim. If a specific mod from either the Nexus or Steam Workshop comes into play, I will give credit to the mod author._

_That aside, I know this is a short chapter, so bear with me. I will try to make subsequent chapters longer, and try and write them quickly._

**Ondelas' Awakening: Chapter 1**

The carriage wheels rolled over a stone, jostling the passengers. The unconscious Altmer jerked awake. The dull roar behind his eyes reminded him of the blow to the head he had received from an Imperial's mace.

"Damned Nords..." he muttered under his breath.

The blond Nord sitting across from him in the carriage heard him. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You tried to cross the border, ri-" "Silence, Nord. I know why I am here. I could not care less for why you are, though," the Altmer cut him off. The Nord narrowed his eyes.

"Your kind is the reason we're even in this mess, elf," he spat. "If it wasn't for your damned Aldmeri Dominion, there wouldn't be a Stormcloak rebellion, and there would be no war! Skyrim was fine before your kind decided to-" The Altmer cut him off again. "Before my kind decided to WHAT, Nord? Do not group me with the other Altmer, and certainly do not mistake me for a member of the Dominion. I am no Justiciar, come to your land to rape your beliefs. Do not judge me, Nord."

Before the Nord could retort, the carriage driver shouted back at them, "Shut up back there!" The Altmer smoldered in fury. How DARE a man of a lower race ORDER him like that? It was unseemly. As he stewed, a dark haired Nord, who was sitting next to the blond, stirred.

"Damn you Stormcloaks... Damned Elves..." he muttered. In a low, but audible, voice he added "And what's with him, huh?" while motioning at the third man the Altmer hadn't noticed. He was dressed in fine clothes and was gagged, unlike the other 3 prisoners in the carriage.

"Watch your tongue, horse thief! That man is Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim!" the blond retorted in equal parts pride and anger.

The Altmer's brows raised in surprise. By the Princes... The leader of the Nords' silly rebellion was sitting inches from him. This did NOT bode well. The horse thief agreed. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the rebellion? If they've captured you.. Oh gods, where are they taking us?" The thief's voice tremored more with each word.

The rebel's voice was strangely calm. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits... What village are you from, horse thief?"

The dark haired Nord's eyes were holding back tears. "Why do YOU care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts...should be of home," the blond rebel replied.

The thief was quiet for a long moment before he finally answered. "Rorikstead... I'm from Rorikstead..."

At that moment, the carriage crested a hill, and the gate of an Imperial wall came into view. A soldier on the wall shouted, "General Tullius, Sir! The headsman is waiting!"

A reply came from a man who was apparently the general of the Imperial army, an Imperial himself. "Good. Let's get this over with." The Altmer was thoroughly unable to find the source of the reply, but he filed away the sound of the man's voice...for future reference.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh! Divines, please help me!" the thief pleaded to Aetherius. The Altmer scoffed. The 9 Divines didn't help their worshipers except for those meager blessings. The blond Nord gave him a dirty look, which the Altmer ignored.

The blond rebel glanced behind the carriage and his face screwed up in disgust as the carriage passed under the gate. "Look at him... General Tullius, the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves. I'm sure that they had something to do with this." The last was said with a glance at the Altmer, which was again ignored. The rebel sighed and relaxed against the hard back of the carriage. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in… Funny…when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Who are they daddy? Where are they going?" a young boy sitting on the front porch of a house asked his father. "You need to go inside, little cub," the man gently urge his son. The boy wasn't happy. "Why? I want to watch the soldiers." The father was firmer this time. "Inside the house. Now." The boy stood up reluctantly. "Yes, Papa..."

Just then, the carriage driver reined the horse to a stop, and a female's voice cried out "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!"

The horse thief was on the verge of panic. "Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us..." With that, the four prisoners stood and jumped off the carriage, but the thief was tense.

"No, wait! We're not rebels!"

The blond rebel was unamused. "Face your death with some courage, thief!" The horse thief ignored him.

"You've got to tell them. We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

A female soldier, the one who had commanded the prisoners off the carriage, was standing next to a dark haired Nord. She glared at the prisoners. "Step towards the block when we call your name. ONE AT A TIME.

The blond Nord sighed. "Empire loves their damn lists."

The Nord next to the Imperial Captain was holding a checklist, and started roll call. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The leader of the rebellion stepped towards the headsman's block, where a priestess of Arkay was standing next to a large and imposing masked man with an executioner's axe.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," the rebel whispered, completely reverent to the man who was a symbol of their cause.

The Imperial soldier continued. "Ralof of Riverwood." The blond rebel, Ralof, followed after Stormcloak without a word, pointedly not looking at the man holding the checklist.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" The horse thief took off, running past the Captain and towards the gate of the city they had just ridden through.

The Captain was furious. Her voice was sharp and hard as she yelled out commands. "HALT! ARCHERS!"

"You're not gonna kill m-Agh" The thief hadn't made it far down the road when he was pierced by several arrows.

The Captain turned back to the remaining prisoners. "Anyone else feel like running?" Of course, no one responded. Or ran, for that matter.

The soldier with the checklist turned back to the Altmer. "Wait. You there, Elf, step forward. Who...are you?"

The High Elf, though his hands were bound, strode regally toward the Nord. His head was held high in spite of his position and he glowered at the dark haired Nord with the checklist.

"My name is my own, Nord. Though if you must know it, I am known as Ondelas."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Skyrim, The Elder Scrolls, and most characters are the property of Bethesda Softworks. Some plot points and the OCs are mine, that's it. May or may not feature cameos from friends' save files as random NPC type characters.

_A/N: This chapter took a bit longer than I expected to write, which I blame on my short attention span and the fact that I only have the computer for 5-6 hours a day. And,while it is longer than the first chapter, happened to only be twice as long in word count._

_My disappointment in myself aside, I hope you enjoy this installation._

**Ondelas' Awakening: Chapter 2**

The dark haired Nord ignored the challenge in Ondelas' voice as he looked down at the clipboard. "You're not with the Thalmor Embassy, are yo-" with a snort of derision, Ondelas interrupted the Imperial soldier.

"You are the second Nord to mistake me for some Thalmor brute. No. I am no Thalmor. I wouldn't be here if I were, now would I?"

"I suppose not, Elf." The soldier tried his best to refrain from arguing with the prisoner, ignoring the insults stabbing from the Altmer's amber eyes. He turned to the Captain beside him. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list?"

The Imperial Captain was not in the mood for mercy, or the paperwork necessary for sending this one prisoner to a prison. "Forget the list. He goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain," the soldier replied resignedly. He turned back to Ondelas, who appeared to be only slightly annoyed by this turn of events. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isle."

"Hmph. Might as well send my body to Oblivion. I have no family left on the Isle. I wouldn't have risked this godsforsaken ice pit if I did."

The Nord's face hardened. This prisoner was pushing him too far. "Follow the Captain, prisoner."

The Captain, who had been glaring at the bound Altmer, grabbed his shoulder and shoved him towards the block, where a small congregation of prisoners had been forced to gather. Nearly stumbling, Ondelas glared at the Imperial bitch as she stepped between the condemned to stand next to the priestess. He studied her face. She would die by his hand.

A man in gold and crimson armor began speaking to the rebel leader. His voice was that of General Tullius. Ondelas made sure to memorize his face as well. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to MURDER his king and USURP his throne." Stormcloak grunted behind his gag in reply, but there was no way to determine what he said and Tullius continued. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

Just then, a roar echoed across the mountains. All the soldiers searched the sky for the cause of the noise. The soldier who had called roll call for the carriage Ondelas rode in had his hand on his sword. He was looking nervously at the mountain range that served as a backdrop for the execution. "What was that?"

The General seemed less concerned than the Nordic soldiers. "It's nothing. Carry on."

The Captain, who seemed to Ondelas to be a total bootlicker, was quick to respomd "Yes, General Tullius." She turned to the priestess. "Give them their last rites."

The priestess of Arkay nodded and lifted her hands in prayer. "As we command your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-" A Stormcloak soldier interrupted the priest and stepped up to the block. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." The priestess was annoyed. "As you wish."

The impatient soldier stood in front of the block, waiting for his death. "Cone on, I haven't got all morning." Ondelas found the man foolish for rushing to his death. The Altmer preferred to think that he would survive and take his vengeance on the Imperial bastards who dared to think that they would execute him.

The Imperial Captain shoved the rebel to his knees and forced his face to the block. As he stared at the headsman, the rebel gave one last biting comment. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The headsman raised his axe above his head and brought it down on the rebel's neck, decapitating him in one swift motion. The Captain shoved his headless body aside with her booted foot. A rebel screamed in outrage while the townspeople cheered. Ralof, the rebel from Ondelas' carriage was as calm as ever. "As fearless in death...as he was in life."

The Captain then turned back to the prisoners. "Next, the High Elf!" Ondelas' indifference slipped to confusion, and perhaps a little bit of worry. He looked around... No, there were no other Altmer standing amongst the condemned. Before he could step up to the block, another roar resounded across the valley. Again, the soldiers searched the sky, more worried than before. A soldier fearfully cried out, "There it is again! Do you hear it?"

The Captain, being of a different stock than the superstitious Nords, ignored the sound. "I said, NEXT PRISONER."

An Imperial soldier addressed the Altmer, who was hesitating. "To the block, Elf. Nice and easy."

Ondelas resumed his arrogant posture and practically sauntered to the block. He glared at the Captain. "I will see you in Oblivion, bitch."

She planted her boot into Ondelas' back and shoved him face first into the block. "Silence, Elf." Oh, yes. She would definitely die by his hand. If he didn't somehow make it out of this, Ondelas would petition all 16 Princes if he had to in order to get a chance at slaughtering the Imperial bitch.

As the headsman lifted bis axe, Ondelas noticed a black...thing crest the mountains. Another roar, closer than the other two, boomed across the city of Helgen. "What in Oblivion is THAT?" Tullius exclaimed as he finally noticed that something might be wrong. The creature flew into view over the walls of the city.

The Captain raised her own voice. "Sentries! What do you see?" The condemned Altmer felt she was either blind or dumb; the huge beast was hovering over an Imperial tower. The creature landed on the tower, sending a rumble through the earth that knocked over the headsman.

Ondelas stared at the creature's blazing red eyes as a soldier screamed in disbelief. "Dragon! It's a dragon!" The dragon seemed to scream at the sky, which turned into a swirling vortex. It's voice tore through the sky once more and Ondelas was knocked aside, completely dazed. The world faded in and out for several seconds. Soldiers were yelling from every direction, but they seemed almost miles away.

One voice seemed to float in through the quagmire of Ondelas' thoughts. It was the rebel, Ralof's. "Get up, High Elf! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" Shaking his head to clear the mist that seemed to cloud his eyes, Ondelas got to his feet. "This way, Elf!" The Altmer turned towards the sound of Ralof's voice just as the Nord sprinted for one of the city's towers. Ondelas teetered after him in a manner he decided was incredibly graceless as he cursed the Imperials for putting him in binds.

Just before Ondelas was even able to get through the door, he was knocked aside by a small explosion. The Altmer snarled as he landed on his back, until he realized that the sky was raining bolts of fire. Staying flat on his back was a good way to finish what the Imperials started, so he shakily regained his feet and stumbled into the tower. The door shut behind him just before a loud thud sounded from the other side of the door.

Ralof was catching his breath inside the small room with a spiral staircase around the wall. "Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

The rebel leader was stoic and calm. "Legends don't burn down villages."

Ondelas shook his head. "That one is. Now, will someone cut me loose?" The dragon roared from outside the tower.

"There's no time, Elf. We need to move. Now! Up the tower!" Ralof took off up the spiral stairs as Ondelas glared at Ulfric. "I said move, Elf! Unless you want to die here?"

"This is why I hate men..." Ondelas muttered under his breath as he turned his back to the Stormcloak leader and tottered up the stairs. About halfway up the stairs was a blockage. The tower had partially collapsed during the dragon attack, and a Stormcloak prisoner was trying to shift the large stones.

Just before Ralof stepped onto the landing, the wall busted open, sending large chunks of rock crashing into the tower. Before Ralof or Ondelas could so much as flinch, a gout of flame burst through the new hole in the wall, filling the air with heat and scorching the stone walls. After a moment, the flames stopped and the sound of huge wings retreated from the cavity.

Ralof flew up the last few stairs to check on the soldier, who appeared to have been cooked medium rare. Ralof shook his head and looked out the window the dragon had been so nice as to install. He pointed to a burned out husk of a building below the tower. "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going."

Ondelas stepped to the edge of the hole and looked at the building Ralof was referring to. Seeing no other course of action, the Altmer judged the distance. Mistaking his slight hesitance for concern, the Nord added "Go! We'll follow you!"

Ignoring the Nord's encouragement, Ondelas jumped to the burning inn bellow. However, his bound hands threw off his balance and he landed bad, twisting an ankle and crashing to one knee. "Damn! Blasted Imperials, and their damned ambush..." The aggravated High Elf pushed himself to his feet, grimacing as he put weight on his hurt ankle. No matter. He would be fine in a few moments. Ondelas limped to a flight of stairs to the ground floor and, with his jaw clenched, descended and walked out into a blazing plane of Oblivion.

The city was in tatters, with wooden buildings splintered and scorched, and stone fortifications dashed to pieces. An Imperial soldier was shouting to a child standing in the middle of the city's main road. As Ondelas approached, he recognized the man with the checklist who had seemed reluctant to send him to the block. He believed that the Princes wouldn't deliver him from an execution and dragon attack, only to set him up to be captured again.

The soldier glanced back and noticed Ondelas approaching from the burnt out inn. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way."

"Actually, if you could just cut my binds..."

The soldier, however, wasn't paying attention. He was ordering another soldier to protect the child and then took off running down the road, apparently to find General Tullius. Ondelas sighed. How bloody hard was it to cut a mer's bindings? He followed after the man, slightly off balance.

Ondelas just had time to hear the Imperial soldier's frantic call, "Stay close to the wall!" before the dragon landed on the stone wall running beside the path. It seemed to speak, and when it roared, a blast of flame accompanied its voice. After it flew off, the soldier took off again, Ondelas in tow. Zigzagging through burnt ruins, the soldier ran through a giant stone gate with the keep of Helgen looming nearby.

The rebel Ralof had found his own path out of the tower and was racing towards the Keep himself. The soldier was not pleased. "Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!"

The Nord rebel didn't seem to want the confrontation that the other Nord was pushing for. "We're escaping Hadvar. You are NOT stopping us this time."

"FINE! I hope that dragon takes you ALL to Sovngarde. Come on, prisoner!"

Ondelas mused for a second. "Hadvar, was it? No. No, I don't think I'll be going with you. I'd much rather go with the man who did NOT try to execute me today."

Hadvar was disgusted. "Have it your way, Elf. The next time we meet, I'll have you in chains." He dashed into the Keep as Ondelas turned towards Ralof, who was waiting by the door. "You made the right choice, High Elf. The Stormcloaks a-" Ondelas shook his head. "I'm not particularly interested in your cause, Nord." He strode towards the rebel, who opened the door.

"Just...cut these damn binds, will you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Skyrim, The Elder Scrolls, and most characters are the property of Bethesda Softworks. Some plot points and the OCs are mine, that's it. May or may not feature cameos from friends' save files as random NPC type characters.

_A/N: Things have been a little hectic since I last posted a chapter, what with school and stuff... But yeah, my muse has decided I needed to write more._

**Ondelas' Awakening: Chapter 3**

Ondelas stepped into the keep, followed by Ralof. "Stand still and let me see if I can get those bindings off."

"Finally," muttered Ondelas. That had taken far too long. He held hus arms out to Ralof, who cut the wraps with a dagger he must have hidden or picked up. He rubbed his wrists, which were a bit chafed. "Yes, that is so much better."

"Oh no..." Ralof noticed a rebel laying on the floor. He ran to the man and knelt over him, but there was nothing he could do. The man was already dead. "We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother." He stood and turned back to Ondelas. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it."

Ondelas nodded. "It would appear so."

"That THING was a dragon," Ralof continued breathlessly. "No doubt. Just like the children's stories and legends. The harbingers of the End Times. We better get moving. You may as well take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore." He gestured to the dead rebel.

"Not at all," Ondelas adamantly refused. "As much as I would _love_ to raid a dead man's belongings, I don't fight like you brutish Nords. I prefer magic over blades. Unless your friend here kept a few books of magic on his person, I would find his gear completely useless."

"Suit yourself, Elf. But if we run into any guards who don't want us escaping, I may not be able to protect you."

Ondelas scoffed. "I doubt I'll need you to protect me, Nord. But you can keep on with your fantasies."

Ralof shook his head and walked toward the barred door. "Damn Elves and their damn magic..." Louder, he said "I'm going to see if I can find some way out of here..." He fiddled with the lock. "Agh! This one's locked. Let's see about that gate..." Ralof walked across the circular room to examine the other door. "Damn! No way to open this from our side."

Before either men could say another word, someone shouted from the other side of the gate. A man and woman were running down the hallway from the other side.

"It's the Imperials! Take cover!" Ralof shouted at the Altmer as he ducked to one side of the door.

Ondelas stood defiantly in the center of the room. He smirked and clenched his fists, then spread his arms. "I'm perfectly ready."

On the other side of the gate, one of the Imperials noticed the Altmer in rags. "It's the escaped prisoners!" she shouted. A chain rattled and the gate dropped.

The Altmer was pleasantly surprised to see the captain who had condemned him. "Ralof, you can have that other soldier, the man. The woman is mine."

The captain growled and drew her sword. "I'll have your head, Elf!" She charged into the room toward Ondelas.

"No. No, I think you won't." Ondelas concentrated on heat and flame and sent two streams of blazing fire at the woman. She bellowed in fury as she took a swing at the Elf. The sword cut a shallow gash across Ondelas' left shoulder and the pain caused him to lose concentration for a moment. The flames petered out and the captain smirked.

"What's the matter Elf? Run out of magicka? Swords don't run out of a cutting. Edge!" She punctuated the last two words with swings that caught nothing but air. "Stand still!" The captain threw all her weight into another attack, which Ondelas neatly sidestepped. He stepped inside the soldier's reach and grabbed her by the throat.

He blasted her with Flames and when she shrieked, it was with pain and fear instead of fury. The flames licked at her lips from within her throat. Her neck and face started to burn, the magicka powered fire setting the soldier alight from the inside.

As he tossed the corpse of the captain aside, Ondelas heard a frenzied cry from behind him. "YOU MONSTER!"

The High Elf turned, ready to blast the Imperial Soldier with fire. The man had abandoned his fight with Ralof to turn on Ondelas. That was a fatal mistake for he never saw the axe heading for his skull. The soldier dropped heavily to the floor.

"Your magic is too theatrical, Elf. It's going to get you killed."

"I don't think so, Nord. Do you think one of these Imperials has the key to that other door?"

He rummaged through the junior soldier's gear. "Nothing here. The captain might have it."

Ondelas checked the captain. He smirked at her charred throat. "I told you that I' see you in Oblivion, bitch. It's just a damn shame that I couldn't have trapped your soul... Oh, what's this?" Ondelas' fingers wrapped around a little sliver of metal. He pulled out a brass key from a pouch on her waist.

"Did you find it? Good, see if it unlocks the door."

The Altmer hurried across the stone floor and tried the key in the lock. It clicked open immediately. "After you?"

Ralof rushed through the door. "Come on, let's get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads."

"Oh, don't worry, Nord. I'm not dying this day." Ondelas was close on Ralof's heels.

They ran around a corner and down a flight of stairs when a mighty roar sounded from right above their heads. Ralof had just stopped short when a section of roof collapsed right in front of him. The rubble nearly crushed him, but he was able to stagger back out of the way in time. "Gods!"

Ondelas ducked through a nearby door. "Come on, Nord, let's get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on your head." He mimicked Ralof's earlier admonition. And blundered straight into two more Imperial soldiers.

"What are... Escaped prisoner!" one of the men shouted. His friend had been drinking from a tankard and dumped the remnants all over himself in his surprise. Ralof charged in with his axe ready. "Two of them. This'll be easy enough. You take the Elf."

The soldier who had soaked himself in ale pulled his greatsword from off his back and squared off with Ondelas. "No weapons, High Elf? I guess I got it easy."

"You would think so. But I am my own weapon." Ondelas focused on anger and rage and forced these feelings out through his hand, hitting the soldier with a red blast. The man stumbled a bit with a look of confusion on his face. The confusion was replaced quickly with anger. The affected soldier took a swing at the nearest living being: the soldier who was locked in battle with Ralof. The Imperial had been repulsing the rebel with his wood and steel shield, but was totally unprepared for his friend's greatsword to the back.

The wounded soldier fell to one knee, shocked too much to feel pain. Ralof finished him off quickly. "What in Oblivion did you do, Elf?"

"Fury spell," Ondelas replied as he ducked away from the enraged Imperial's sword. "Pisses him off to the point he doesn't care who he hurts. Only problem is that now,-DAMN IT!" the soldier had connected with a swing across Ondelas' chest. The wound burned like fire and the Altmer stumbled back with his hand over the cut rags. "Princes damn you..." Before the soldier could finish the High Elf, Ondelas was able to muster the concentration to scorch his face with Flames. The Imperial stumbled back into Ralof, who wasted no time burying his axe deep into the soldier's neck.

"That's twice I've saved your neck, Elf. And here you said that I wouldn't have to protect you."

Ondelas scoffed and filled his body with Healing energies. "I could have done it without you, Nord. You worked very well for a distraction, though." He tested his left hand. Satisfied that his wounds had been adequately healed by his magic, he looked around the room. A roar that echoed through the stone keep instilled a sense of urgency into Ondelas and Ralof that they had lost while they fought the Imperials.

"It's a storeroom. See if you can find any potions. We'll need them," Ralof suggested. "I'll scout ahead."

Ondelas scowled at the Nord, but he hurriedly scoured the room, looking for the little red, green, or blue bottles. The man was right, even if the mer didn't want to admit it. He spotted a few on the shelves that were around a table, and another sitting on another table. "I think that's all of them. There were only 3."

"Did you check the barrels?"

"...The barrels? Why would I look in the barrels?"

"Well, there are barrels there. There might be things in them."

"Stupid, Nord... Why would there be any potions...in...the barrels..." Ondelas was astonished to see a total of another 6 potions. The total was now 5 healing potions, 3 magicka potions, and one stamina potion. "I found more potions. In the barrel." He shoved the potions into a little pouch on the tunic the Imperials had forced him into.

"Then let's get moving." Ondelas thought he detected a smug smirk on the rebel's face.

The two went through a door and down two flights of stone stairs. They heard shouting from below.

"Troll's blood! It's a torture room!" Ralof was infuriated.

There was a Stormcloak rebel fighting the Imperial torturers. Ralof, of course, jumped in to help. Ondelas threw a bit of Flame here and there, but with the odds suddenly 3 to 2, the Imperial soldiers died quickly.

"Was Jarl Ulfric with you?" Ralof asked the rebel they had saved.

"No, I haven't seen him since the dragon showed up," she replied.

"Damn... Wait a second. Looks like there's something in this cage."

Ondelas peered into the cage. There was a man, dead most likely, wearing mage robes... "Oh, yes. There is." He fumbled with the cage door, but it was locked. "Damn, there's no getting in there."

"See if you can get it open with some picks. We might need that gold once we get out." Ralof handed the High Elf a pouch that contained a handful of lockpicks.

"I couldn't really care about the gold at this point, but those robes are probably enchanted. I could use that." Ondelas pulled a pick and a small, dull dagger out of the pouch. "Er, I don't know how to use these..." It killed him to admit that he didn't know how to do something, but it was easier than making a fool of himself by breaking all the picks because he didn't know what to do.

The rebel they had saved stepped over and took the pick and dagger. "It's very simple. You put the knife into the lock... And you put the pick into the lock... And you turn the knife a little, just enough to give you resistance. Then you gotta find the tumblers of the lock and poke them up until you can get them...set!" The cage door clicked and the Stormcloak handed Ondelas the tools. "There. All done."

Ondelas opened the cage door. "Thanks. That was...enlightening." He emptied his little potion pouch and quickly stripped the dead prisoner of his robes. He removed his cut rags and put the robes on. He could feel the enchantment flow through the robes. It was a basic magicka regeneration enchantment that would help him quickly refill his stores of energy, while the hood that went with it increased his base amount.

There was another magicka potion on the floor, and 2 more in the pouch of the robe. As he was adjusting the fit of the robes, a spell tome fell from the pouch at his waste. "Sparks... That will be very useful..." Ondelas moved the potions he had found in the other room to the pouch on his new robes as he flipped through the spell book. He concentrated on the words of power and thought of a little static spark in order to focus the energies into a stream of lightning.

"Let's go," Ralof urged.

"Yes, let's," both the other rebel and Ondelas agreed. The three hurried down the cell-lined hall and down yet another stone staircase. They came out into a room filled with small cages that held the deceased. A break in the wall revealed a tunnel, which the three quickly traversed. They came out into an open cavern crawling with Imperial soldiers.

"The prisoners are escaping!" one cried and they all jumped into action.

"The fires of Oblivion are descending and that's all they can think about?" growled Ondelas as he blasted one with Sparks. The man took three steps toward the High Elf before collapsing rigidly, smoke pouring out of every orifice.

Though they were outnumbered 2 to 1, the escaping prisoners were desperate, and Ondelas' magical prowess was a dangerous weapon. They all survived the encounter, leaving the Imperials dead.

When the skirmish was over, Ralof was the first to look for an exit. "Let's go on ahead. See if the way is clear." He found a tunnel that was blocked by wooden boards. "Let's see where this goes..." He flipped a lever and the boards dropped down to form a bridge.

"I'll stay behind and see if Jarl Ulfric comes this way," the third prisoner volunteered. Ondelas didn't care either way.

Ralof and Ondelas had just barely crossed the bridge before stone collapsed on it behind them. A great roar from outside the keep explained the cause.

"No going back that way, now... We better push on. The rest of them will have to find another way out."

Ondelas was already running down into the tunnels below. They were following a small underground stream that must have carved these tunnels out of the solid rock around them. After a short distance, they ame into a large cavern. There as webbing everywhere. "This doesn't look good..."

Ralof hardly had time to give a warning before several frostbite spiders dropped from the ceiling and attacked. Though generally feared, frostbite spiders did have a weakness. Fire. The Altmer sprayed the overgrown arachnids with Flames from both hands until there was nothing but burnt husks.

"I hate those damn things. Too many eyes, you know?" Ondelas was starting to get really tired with Ralof's incessant commentary.

With the spiders out of the way, the two prisoners continued through the cave system. Before long, they came to a larger cavern. Ralof suddenly stopped short. "Hold up!" he whispered through his teeth. "There's a bear just ahead. See her?" He pointed toward a hulking brown bear napping on the cave floor. "I' rather not tangle with her right now. Let's try to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step."

"I know how to pick my way carefully, Nord."

"That's how you got caught by the Imperial guard, yeah?" Ondelas had no retort. He just snarled.

The two prisoners snuck quietly past the bear. Ondelas' heart nearly stopped when it stirred, but it just went right back to sleep. Finally, they were at the mouth of the cave. They could feel the fresh wind blowing.

"I knew we'd make it! We're free!" Ralof was ecstatic. So was Ondelas. He would finally get away from this damned Nord.


End file.
